


twirly

by mintoche



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Study?, Introspection?, M/M, Who's to Say, bc theyre such good...friends, idk what this is, im so sorry but it had to be done, summerish, yes I DO make a friends reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24881722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintoche/pseuds/mintoche
Summary: Oikawa didn’t understand why, exactly, Iwaizumi had stuck around this long. People flitted to and from him quickly, realizing his glimmer was only skin deep, on to the next thing soon enough because beauty isn’t everything.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	twirly

**Author's Note:**

> okay so um. this is my first fic? I love iwaoi and haikyuu so much it hurts, f in the chat for me, huh?

Oikawa was easy to become infatuated with, shiny and pretty to warrant a short-term obsession. Iwaizumi was easy to love. He was always there, always strong. Like the way the trees always grew upwards, root to tip, like the way mountains stand stubborn, staring at the sky the way they always do, like that old red pick up truck would rust slowly on the side of the I-9 for the rest of time like it had since they were children. His beauty was simple and lovely and as old as time.

Oikawa didn’t understand why, exactly, Iwaizumi had stuck around this long. People flitted to and from him quickly, realizing his glimmer was only skin deep, on to the next thing soon enough because beauty isn’t everything. People picked him up and put them in their pretty collection on the shelf, until the novelty wore off and he was left behind in some dusty corner behind some Newer, Better Thing. Iwaizumi kept friends and people, even Oikawa. He still talked with friends from grade school and middle school, people who Oikawa had long since let pass him by. Not Iwaizumi, though. Iwaizumi was his, untouchable and forever, the blue of the sky above the clouds—irrevocably his. Oikawa reeled in people for a short while, charming and romancing wherever he went but leaving them behind just as fast. Iwaizumi was gruff and surly, yes, but when he made friends he made friends and tended to them with all the care that Ushiwaka would with his plants (god, what a nerd). For god’s sake, he still talked to Kageyama, of all people. Checked in and such. Such was Iwaizumi, reliable senpai until death.

Sometimes this reliable-ness hurt. Was Iwaizumi only his because of his impeccable sense of duty? Because he was just That Way—sickeningly perfect and loyal to the last. Oikawa hadn’t done anything noteworthy to keep Iwaizumi around in years—the last memorable event being his birthday gift of a Godzilla mug that changed colors when it went from hot to cold. The stars in his eyes were everything. Oikawa knows that he’s jealous and weird and protective, and that he’s no good for Iwaizumi, that he should stay away before he brings him down. The stars are still there though, in his eyes, from all those years ago, and he wonders if he kissed him, would there be stars in his mouth too, falling into his, Andromeda and Hercules, and Cassiopeia too. 

He thinks this as he watches Iwa melt into the wooden deck beneath them, basking in the smell of sunburnt pine needles and the buzz of cicadas and the first sun they’ve had in days. Iwaizumi liked the rain, always had, running without ear buds in storms, reading a book by the window open in the rain, sitting on the roof to watch the clouds roll in. But Oikawa had always thought (secretly and only to himself, of course, because who could he tell? Maki and Mattsun would laugh until they barfed, Iwaizumi would look at him and punch him after accusing him of scheming or something—or worse, someone would figure out he was in love) that he was the most beautiful in the sun. Maybe this was Tooru getting sentimental, maybe this was because he was drunk on vitamin D or sun sick because he was still too damn pale, but Iwaizumi was beautiful today. (He always was, but Tooru always found a way to justify thinking it.)

And Tooru was terrible of course, for thinking about how attractive his best friend was, how he was betraying this beautiful thing they had maintained since childhood, how Tooru had managed to get this one person to stay around for so long. Was the weight of this pain he carried worth maintaining this, moments like this in the sun after a storm? Of course. Because it was Iwa-chan. Because he was Tooru.

But it still hurt. Especially on days like today when Iwa’s eyes were so green like that, when he wore that stupid a-little-too-small-but-of-course-I-can’t-throw-it-away-Tooru-it’s-still-useful tank top that made him look like fucking John McClane from fucking Die Hard (hot), when he was smiling because it was summer break and there was nothing to do but lay out on wooden decks with his best friend.

Tooru always worried that Iwaizumi became his friend because it was convenient. Because they lived next to each other and all that. That’s how they came together, how Tooru met him, why Tooru made friends with him in the first place. But Iwa-chan stayed his friend, when every one else came and went and then somehow Tooru found himself latching on to this beautiful person, simultaneously wanting to scream the heights of Iwaizumi’s perfection in the faces of everyone he met while at the same time jealously trying to keep him all to himself. Because he was too good, someone else would realize it—or Iwaizumi would realize this glaring fact for himself—and Tooru would be all alone.

“You’re doing the thing.”

“What thing?”

“You know when in Friends Phoebe talks about Monica going all “twirly”?”

“Uh yeah? I guess? Since when do you like friends?” (Iwaizumi has always loved friends, strangely enough. Makki and Mattsun think it’s because he had a crush on Rachel, Tooru knows it’s because he has the time of his life making fun of Ross.)

“First of all, always. Second of all, you’re going all twirly on me right now.”

“Twirly?”

“Twirly.”

“Huh.”

Iwa sat up. “You’re thinking time hard about something. And it’s probably something dumb, and you don’t have enough brain power to waste to keep doing that.”

“You know, you can’t talk down to me if you’re actually, in fact, physically shorter than me. It’s scientifically impossible.”

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes. Tooru can see him contemplate murder, then the consequences of committing murder, then the effort of committing murder on a day so hot, then the settling for a flick to the forehead and an exasperated “fuck off.”

Tooru wines for the permitted amount of time he’s usually allowed before Iwa gets mad again, resting right on the cusp of his patience, as he sits back down to face the sun again.

They sit for a moment, then:

“Whatever you’re worried about, I’m sure it’ll all be fine.” He hears quietly, off to the side.

Tooru’s heart hurts. He knows that Iwaizumi cares, and Iwaizumi knows that he knows that he cares. Gruff-ness aside, he knows that Iwaizumi cares, way more than he lets on, and somehow that hurts, the weight of that caring, it just being slightly off from what Tooru feels, the monumental continental divide that separates how they feel, even if it is just by hairs. Side by side, love and friendship. And Tooru’s faking friendship, he doesn’t want to be friends anymore, he wants everything beyond and deeper than that. And he’s betraying Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi still caring hurts.

**Author's Note:**

> dont u worry oiks, iwa loves you very much  
> (iwaoi is cannon, duh)


End file.
